The asshole grunts at me and shoves me in front of him. I feel the shotgun jab into my back. It occurs to me that I very well may be about to die. And being blown away by a shotgun is probably the most appropriate death I can think of. It’s not the death I would like to have, but at least it’s pretty fucking legendary. My mouth is totally fucking dry, but I am not about to start getting scared. Now is not the time to feel afraid. When they fucking shoot me, that’s about the time to feel afraid. And anyway, I reassure myself, I’ve already been shot once before. That was apparently just a warm up call for this sort of thing. A foreshadowing for what was to come.
